Penumbra
by Mariel Nightstalker
Summary: Rosalie takes the night out. HET Pairing: Rosalie/Unknown


A/N: I warned you all vaguely that the draw of Emmett would result in another story featuring him in conjunction with Harry. This is the result of that.

Warning: This story is rated mature. It will feature sexual content of both homosexual and heterosexual types, graphic violence, psychological trauma, and pervasive bad language. If any of these are likely to upset you, please do not read this. Thank you!

**Penumbra**

_Pe-num-bra: [noun] the partial or imperfect shadow outside the complete shadow of an opaque body, as a planet, where the source of the light is only partly cut off._

The sun beat down on the interstate even as it set, giving strange other-shadows to the Utah landscape. The earth radiated the heat that it collected during the day, hot enough to burn your skin right off your bones if you were careless. Night creatures stirred, coyotes pacing the outskirts of the rock formations, always just out of sight even as their presence hung heavy in the sticky dusk air.

Something stirred in the scrub lining the interstate.

A hand emerged from under a rock, clenching the shifting silt in a perfectly manicured hand. The broad flat stone supporting several scrubby bushes wobbled and then rose. It hit the ground with a muffled sigh, revealing a rectangular grave set beneath it. A figure, swathed in a long leather coat that glowed with opalescent glamour, uncoiled and then started to stand. The last fading rays of the orange-blue sunlight illuminated the outline a woman. The carefully painted fingernails reached up and flicked back the black lacy hood that was attached to something she wore beneath the coat.

Blackness descended over what you could see of the world, coming so suddenly that it jolted your spine. The woman moved smoothly, like a giant cat, to stand beside a rounded boulder hugging the side of the interstate. The trucks would come soon, their heavy loads and massive tires making up most of the night's usual traffic flow.

She sat on the boulder and crossed her legs. There were no cars, just her and the wildness of the nighttime. She didn't mind. She could wait.

The coyotes got bolder as the hours ticked by. Truck after truck came roaring past, but the only acknowledgment she gave them was a slight flare of the nostrils. If you were stupid or suspicious, you'd think she smelled the drivers, her sense of smell somehow penetrating the dust, exhaust, and gasoline in addition to the metal barriers of the trucks, an invisible test.

A Sysco truck came onto the scene. Her nostrils twitched as per usual, but a sudden stiffening of her posture and prolonged sniffing marked this vehicle as different. She stood, took a step onto the road, and raised her thumb. She had a French manicure.

The truck slowed, brakes hissing in protest, then came to a lurching stop. Dust dribbled off of the mud flaps.

The window unrolled, and a broad sweaty male face insinuated itself into the picture. He removed his cigarette from his lips long enough to drawl, "Do you need a ride, lady…?"

But his question trailed off as the reflected light of his dashboard and front lights showed a that really should've been Playboy's Miss January. Everything about her was frigid sex appeal and elegance, from her long white coat to the black lace dress beneath. He almost dropped his cigarette, but saved it in time.

"As a matter of fact I do," her voice sounded like it should've been clipped and formal, but there was a looseness to it that rubbed him all the right ways, "Do you mind unlocking your door?"

He forced himself to stop staring at her and look around, "What, you don't have a bag?"

She shook her head, and a long blonde curl came out of the sleek up-do she sported, "I'm low-maintenance tonight."

"Well, hop on up!" he tried to sound less nervous, but his voice kept wanting to crack like he was back in grade school all over again and sitting next to the prettiest girl in class desperate to say something to her. She clambered up and made herself comfortable in the passenger's seat, crossing her legs.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. A woman like this had to have a man of some sort, and probably a big one with a short temper if the universe's sick sense of humor was still the same as he remembered.

He tossed his old one out the window and lit a fresh cigarette, "Do you want one?"

"No thanks; I don't smoke."

"Suit yourself."

What did you say to a woman like this? He snuck a look out of the corner of his eye. She was looking out the window, one hand tapping her knee in time with the radio. Her legs didn't ever seem to end, and her coat glittered a little in the faint light. His speed dial's light turned her lips green.

"So, uh, where are you headed?"

"Oh, anywhere; I don't really have a destination in mind. I just want to get around."

"Cool," he nodded; he tried to look modern and interested like the men she was probably used to. Or maybe she went for meatheads. How was he to know? It was kind of hard to impress a beautiful stranger. He wished he'd showered more thoroughly at his last rest stop now.

An hour went by, and he hadn't relaxed at all, still tense from her presence. She wasn't sleeping or talking, and didn't look bored in the slightest despite the lack of entertainment. The obnoxious radio personality interrupted the music channel they were listening to in order to advertise something, and he turned it off on a whim. When silence descended, he suddenly wished he hadn't.

He looked at her and saw that she was looking at him. She smirked and looked him over.

He tried to re-process what he'd just seen, but came up with the same result. She just eyed him the same way a lion does a steak, with vague but definite interest. He cleared his throat and tugged at the collar of his t-shirt. It was his favorite shirt, his lucky t-shirt. He'd met Janelle when he was wearing it, even though she'd long since left him in the dust.

"Um…"

"Pull over."

He obeyed without thinking. Even if she looked like a toad, you did what you were told when a woman used that tone of voice. He kept his hands on the wheel, white-knuckled and clammy.

Her hand was freezing when it cupped his chin, and he started. He opened his mouth to laugh nervously, but found this action impeded by her hand tugging his face to the side and closer. Her lips were just as cold as her hand, if not colder, and perfectly smooth. There was no tell-tale stickiness from any kind of lip product, which could only mean that her lips were their color with no help from man-made products.

He didn't notice the cold anymore when she pulled his shirt over his head and settled into his lap. His head lights were still on, and several coyotes darted through them, not that he noticed. His head was swimming and his body was buzzing. Her cold hands traced his zipper.

This had to be a dream.

He woke up naked and alone. And sore, very, very sore. A glance in the mirror showed him that his lips were bruised and one of his cheekbones was shadowed. His ribs felt like he'd gotten into a fight with Kyle, the asshole from college who used to rough him up on weekends when they'd been drinking.

No fucking way last night just happened.

000

Rosalie trailed her hands down Emmett's back, pressing her cheek to his shoulder with a sigh.

"Did you have a nice time last night?" he asked, not looking up from the map he was poring over, "You smell nice."

She smiled against his flesh and nipped him with her teeth, "Yes, I did. You smell like a woman…did you find someone as well?"

"Of course," he grinned, circling their next location. As far as the good people of Forks knew, they were in Africa having 'couple time'. What they didn't know was that 'couple time' for them meant traveling wherever they had the whim to go and having as much sex as they could. Living forever meant that you craved a little variety every once in a while, and they'd never pretended that their relationship was monogamous.

She left him to his map and stepped into the bathroom. She needed a shower.

000

End chapter 1

This is the introductory chapter. Tell me what you think!


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